


April's One Line Sonnet

by Jerry_Larchive



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: And the Rest of the Grey Sloan Gang, Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerry_Larchive/pseuds/Jerry_Larchive
Summary: A retelling of S14X23, but from April's POV. Expect major canon divergence in Chapter Two.





	1. This Heart ..,

This is weird. One second I'm freezing cold and the next I'm warm and toasty. How did that work? And where am I? I remember being in an accident. I told Matthew not to drive so fast. I've been on this road before when it was icy. Lots of patches of shade and lots of patches of black ice. You never see it, it just sends your car crazy. But I was lucky. Matthew, not so much. He's pretty banged up. But I didn't see anything too serious. We'll have to take some images to make sure there's nothing internal. I had to walk a ways to catch a signal. These steep canyons make cell service pretty sketchy. But finally, I found a spot and got to 911. But then what happened? It gets dark after that.

I really need to figure this out. I'll be late for work for sure. I hate being late for work. And I have Harriet tonight so I can't stay late to make it up. I wait all week for my days with her and then this happens to screw it up. Typical Kepner luck. No, not Kepner luck, April luck. Damn it.

It's like eight in the morning. How can it be this dark? It wasn't dark when we crashed. Did I fall into a cave or something? But a cave would be cold, especially today. Did I get eaten by a bear? No, bears are a Jackson thing. And a Dwight K Shrute thing. I know that's where he got it from but he would never admit it. The Office, what a crackup. When Jim dressed up like Dwight and talked like him and everything. Hilarious! I would love to work at Dunder Mifflin. I'll bet Pam and I would be friends.

But enough about that. I have to get to the hospital, where I do work, and we need to get Matthew care quickly, in case there's something wrong that I couldn't see. I wonder where my phone is? I had it a second ago. I'll ask Jackson to use Find My iPhone to find it. Wait, no, that won't work. We don't share the same AppleID or have each other in our Find phones any more. Not since I moved out. Crap, why do I get sad every time I think about that? It was a long time ago. I'm over it. I'm over him. I'm with Matthew again. Matthew, who doesn't know to slow down on icy roads, apparently. So why do I get sad?

I hear something. A siren. Now nothing. Wait! Someone calling for me. I know that voice. Owen Hunt is out there somewhere calling for me. Owen! I'm here! Owen! He always comes to get me and bring me back. Owen! I here! Hunt, I'm here in the dark.

Something is going on. Something is happening. I hear sounds around me. Owen is there. And there are other voices too, voices I don't recognize. Why can't I see? Owen! Why can't they hear me? Please, Jesus, give me some light. Take away this blindness.

Something is definitely going on. I hear things. It sounds like paramedics working on someone. Are they working on me? Oh my God, are they working on me? I hear Owen too. But he's not talking now. I hear him breathing heavily and rhythmically, like he's exercising or something. Wait, I know that cadence. Hunt is doing chest compressions on someone. Oh God, Hunt is doing chest compressions on me! Why? I was fine. I walked away from the accident with just a few scrapes and bruises. I hiked to a cell signal for Christ's sakes. What the heck happened?

Oh God, they are working on me. I hear Owen talking to Grey Sloan on the radio. I'm bagged and they are doing compressions still. What I hear Owen telling them is crazy.

“She's hypothermic...”

Okay, that would explain going from cold to warm so quickly.

“no pulse...no vital signs...”

No pulse or vital signs? That would mean I'm...

“GCS three...”

Three? On the Glasgow Coma Scale? That's bad. Deep unconsciousness. So that's why I can't open my eyes or respond to anything. Without pulse or vitals, I think Owen might be overly optimistic with that three.

The siren and compressions and bagging seem to go on forever. I can almost hear the panic in Hunt's breathing. He thinks I'm gone. But he's not giving up. Hunt would never give up. He would never give up on me anyway.

We've been Team Trauma for a lot of years now. I remember that crazed disaster exercise when he about drove me to madness and I about drove an ambulance over him. He says that's when he knew I was made for Trauma.

He's always been there for me. Making me Chief Resident. Encouraging me with that soldier thing when I was freaking out over the boards, which I ended up failing, by the way, thanks in part to sleeping with Jackson the night before.

I still remember his anguished expression when he had to let me go because of it. I also remember leading Jax the pig out of the barn to find Owen Hunt standing there asking me to come back.

It was Owen that put me in charge of the ER. It was Owen that took me to Jordan when I was desperate to recover something of myself after Samuel died. It was Hunt who held me during the whole pregnancy debacle and reminded me that being pregnant with Harriet was a miracle, regardless of the circumstances at the time.

And it was Hunt, practically by himself, that stood by me when I was asked to be interim Chief of General after Meredith was suspended.

No, almost anyone else would have called it by now. But Owen Hunt came to find me and bring me back and nothing will stop him from trying until he drops. I love you, Owen Hunt.

Finally the siren stops and I know we must be at Grey Sloan. Odd that I should be on the other side of that door rushing toward the ambulance instead of being strapped to gurney getting compressed and bagged.

I hear the door open and Hunt repeats everything he told them over the radio. Someone says “We lost her.” I hear Meredith say “She's not dead until she's warm and dead.”

Meredith Grey, surgical wunderkind, now I'm starting to think I might have a chance. Mer and I have not always had that great a relationship. I think she considered me a bit of a ditz at first, especially since Jackson clued her in to that little crush I allegedly had on her husband for awhile. Okay, yeah, I had a little crush on him. But it was all harmless fantasy. Besides, Derek Shepard is the one who hired me back after I was fired for missing the airway my first week here. And he was a world famous neuro surgeon. And he was gorgeous. Anyway, it took awhile for Mer to warm up to me. Honestly, it's like that for a lot of people. I'm not sure why. Maybe I try too hard? But if you're strapped to a gurney with no vitals or pulse and a GSC of three, there's no one you'd rather have meeting your ambulance than Meredith Grey.

I hear her say something about paging Pierce. Owen answers he already done it. I may have all sorts of mixed feelings about Maggie Pierce on a personal level, but professionally, she's a rock star. I know I'll have the Dream Team working on me. Well, the Dream Team minus one. If they're smart, they'll keep Jackson in the dark about me as long as possible. Regardless of what we've been through, he won't be able to take this. He's always been protective of me. To see me like this, beyond his ability to save me, would break him. That can't happen. Harriet will need him whole, no matter the outcome here.

I hear an intern, Glasses I think, say he can't find a vein. Bailey barks “Try the other arm.” at him. Miranda Bailey. With Bailey in my corner, my odds go way up. I've seen her beat long odds by force of will alone. She's not afraid of anything and will break her own rules if she thinks it's the right thing for her patient. I remember her treating that immunodeficient boy with the genetically engineered HIV virus against his parents wishes. If Stephanie hadn't lied to cover for her, it would have been the end of her career. If all else fails, Bailey will probably scare me back to life.

Taryn the intern says something about me being dead and Owen almost rips her head off.

“Shut up! Don't say that! No one says that!” Owen is in battle mode and no one better get in his way.

Bailey announces my temp. “Sixty Eight degrees, we need to get it to Eighty Six before we can try to restart her heart.” Uh, that's a big swing just to try and restart. That's a shitload of compressions away.

I hear Maggie. “Oh my God. What happened? Oh my God! Does Jackson know?”

Of course Maggie understands what will happen when Jackson finds out.

“No not yet.” I hear Meredith answer.

“Meredith, we can't lose her.” Maggie knows she has a personal stake in this. It's much better for her to have me with Matthew than to have to compete with the ghost of Harriet's mother. To be fair, she knows how this would destroy Jackson. And we have been off and on friends ourselves for a number of years now so I believe her concern for me is genuine too.

“We're not going to lose her. The same thing happened to me and I was in way worse shape than April.” Yeah, Owen's not the only one in the fight. I can tell from the cadence of her voice that she has taken over compressions and, if I know Meredith, she's attacking them with a ferocity surprising for her size.

“Jackson should know.” I hear Maggie say. It sounds like her voice is retreating. No! Maggie, No!

But it's Meredith's _no_ that I hear. “No, Maggie, we didn't call you here because you're a friend, we called you here because you're head of cardio. Now get in here. We need you.” That's it Mer, Pierce is brilliant but young. Get her engaged and she'll be fine.

“Push one of epi. More blankets.” Meredith calls.

“No, no, no.” I hear Maggie call. I can tell she is running back toward me. “No, no epi. She's not circulating. It won't get to her heart. It will pool in her system and might be toxic.” Atta girl, Maggie, I knew I could count on you.

“We need dual test tubes and a thoracic levage.” Maggie's now barking orders and in moments the single compressions I was hearing get quadrupled. I hear Bailey ask, “Where do you need me?” and Owen answer, “We're doing everything.” That's my dream team.

It goes on forever. For awhile they work on me in my ER. They are tag teaming the compressions as my temp slowly rises. Then, they'll move me to an OR. That's where the final battle will be fought. Once I hit the target temp they'll try to restart my heart. Even if I beat the odds in that effort, no one knows what kind of deficits I might end up with. If it was me up there, I'd be praying my ass off for a miracle.

When I finally hit seventy six degrees, they move me to the OR. I hear Karev tag in. I know Alex. He won't let anyone tag him out. He'll compress till the cows come home.

“Stop compression. I need her still.” Maggie orders. She must be making the incision necessary to get to my heart. If I survive this, I'll have a few new scars to add to my collection.

“I hated Kepner at first.” I hear Alex say. He's pumping like a madman but his voice is the steadiest. He is always at his best in a crisis. Still, that hate thing stings me a little. I knew he didn't care much for me but _hate_?

“I hated her because I wished I was more like her.” What?

“She's always prepared, always excited.” You always made fun of my excited voice.

“She cared. She liked her patients.” Funny, I always admired you for that same thing.

“She knew her stuff. She's good.” Alex?

“She was all the things I wasn't. All the things I had to work to be. She was just born that way.” I... uh...

“You gotta stop saying _was_.” Meredith reminds him. I actually hadn't noticed. But neither Meredith or Owen will allow for even the hint of defeat. It's part of what makes them great.

Owen calls for blood. I hear them prepping the bypass. Just as they start me on it, I hear a voice I know very well. I've heard so many emotions in that voice. I've heard unbridled happiness, passion, disappointment, anger, frustration, gentleness, and fear.

“How long?” I hear him say. Fear. Definitely fear. As bad as I've ever heard it.

“Three hours.” Mer answers him. Three hours? That's a frickin long time to have no pulse or vitals.

“Three hours! Why the hell didn't you say something?” I hear that voice breaking. Even now, I can't keep my still heart from breaking with it.

“Stop compressions.” I hear Maggie order.

Jackson goes bananas. “No! Don't you stop.” I hear the anguish in his voice above all the others that rise to talk him down.

I hear Maggie explaining that she has me on bypass, that they are warming me, and that they have my system circulating again and will soon try for a rhythm.

Alex tells him there is nothing to do but wait.

“And pray.” adds Owen. My brother from another mother! “Everybody,” he says, “I don't care how you do it or who you do it to, April would want us to pray for her.” You're right, my friend. A couple of weeks ago, maybe not so much, but I'm back to being me again so, yeah, I'd appreciate the prayers.

It's quiet for a long time. I almost think maybe I have died but then I can hear the low hum of the bypass and the oxygen feeding me. I think there may be other people there now too, as word spreads. I think maybe I heard Richard Webber's quiet whisper to someone, Maggie maybe.

It's Maggie's excited voice that breaks the silence.”That. THAT!” she calls. “Right there. Is that a rhythm?”

“I don't see it.” says Owen.

“I don't know.” says Alex. It's bad when two of the strongest warriors in the room sound close to defeat.

But Maggie is not backing down. “That. That, right there. You don't see that?” She's insistent.

“Charge. Charge to One Twenty.” she orders.

“I don't see a rhythm.” protests Richard.

“Clear.” she says. “Clear, now.” She has to repeat herself. Someone, I think I can guess who, is reluctant to break clinging to me.

I hear the familiar thunk of the defibrillator.

“Alright, charge to One Fifty. Clear.” I hear the desperation in Maggie's voice. I hope she is not trying to wish me alive right now. I hope she truly sees something. Otherwise, it's all over.

Thunk. The silence tells me that didn't work either.

As if to confirm, I hear Jackson say “Maggie, you...”

But she cuts him off. “I got it. I see it. I see it. Charge to two hundred.”

Thunk.

“Again. Clear.”

“Come on.” I hear Jackson say. But he's not encouraging her. It's the kind of come on that you say when someone's had enough of a beating and it's time to end it.

Thunk.

“Maggie!” Jackson cries. I hear the anger join the anguish.

“Clear.” Maggie will not be dissuaded. There have been occasions where I've had to defend Jackson to her or suggest she give him the benefit of the doubt. But, in this case, I'm with her. This time it's Maggie who's gone to war for me and she will not be turned back.

Thunk.

“Clear.” Maggie's voice is breaking.

“Stop. Enough! Alright, Stop! Please!” I hear jostling and guess that Jackson, desperate for Maggie to stop pummeling me with shocks, has thrown himself across me. Jackson, I love you. But this is the time for Maggie's brain to overrule your heart.

“Please let go of her.” I hear Meredith say to him and know my guess was right.

Thunk.

“We can't stop.” I hear Meredith add.

The next thing I hear is a little _beep_. I recognize that sound.

“There.” I hear Maggie cry, literally, _cry._

For a long moment the only sound in the room is a regular pattern of _beep_.

Meredith lets out a little whoop of triumph.

“That is a rhythm.” I hear Maggie declare victory.

There are sighs of relief and exhaustion and I know there is some smiling going on. Of course, it will soon hit them. Does this beating heart still belong to April Kepner?

 


	2. .., Beats Only for Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've restarted April's heart. But it will take a miracle for April to return whole to them. But a new voice will soon take up the prayer for that miracle. And if she does return, whose arms will she be returning to?

I hear Amelia come in. Now that my heart is beating, Maggie's work is done and she hands off to Amelia to see if and what I'll wake up to be. Shepard will no doubt be studying my brainwaves trying to discern whether there's any sign of her colleague left in here. Other's have left as well. I no longer hear Alex or Meredith. The interns were sent on their way.

“Brainwaves are slow and irregular.” I hear her say quietly.

“So, what do you think? With time...” I hear Owen ask Amelia. It figures Hunt would stay.

She replies “I don't know. Maybe.”

I hear something else too. It's not his voice because he hasn't said anything since my heart came back online. I actually find that a little odd. I would have expected him to say something to Maggie. But he didn't. I think about what that might mean. Am I over-thinking it? Maybe, but frankly, what else do I have to do right now?

What I think I hear though, is Jackson's heart. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe he's holding my hand and somehow I can detect his pulse. Maybe all of our years and history together have just enabled me to tune into him. I don't know. But I swear I hear his heart beating, as though setting the pace for my own, and keeping me from slipping back into arrest.

Just like the days I used to rest my head on his chest, his heartbeat comforts me. It makes me feel safe and, I don't know.., _home_ somehow. It's hard to explain.

The silence is broken when I hear Arizona loudly ask “What happened?”

Owen and Richard give her a brief rundown on how I happened to be laying here and when they mention Matthew, Arizona spills the beans on how Matthew and I have been seeing each other. She kind of overstates the whole thing but that is typical for Arizona.

Funny thing, while Arizona is informing everyone that Matthew and I are _in love,_ I realize this is the first time it occurred to me to think of Matthew, except in respect to how terrible a driver he is. I realize, a little guiltily, that I haven't worried about his condition or anything. Kind of odd, especially if I truly am in love with him.

But the way Arizona tells the story is so beautiful and makes so much sense I kind of feel like I should be in love with Matthew. But the heartbeat I'm hearing belongs to Jackson. Oh God, am I ever going to be free of this confusion?

I just wish I could see what was going on. I'd love to be able to see Jackson's face right now. For one thing, it's a frickin beautiful face. For another, part of me desperately wants to see his reaction to this me and Matthew revelation.

Oh, April, what are you even thinking? You can not possibly be doing this again. Can you? Ugh! It's a curse. I've been cursed by Jackson Avery. Get over it, April. He's with Maggie. And Matthew is like the perfect fit for you. And, let's face it, you owe him something.

Wait. Did I really just think that? Is that what's going on? Am I with Matthew because somehow I feel guilty? Oh, crap. Maybe I'll just stay in the coma for a few months and come out only when the coast is clear.

Time drags on. At least I assume time is dragging on. Where I am there's not really any concept of time. But I hear a lot of shuffle and bustle as people go in and out. I think I'm starting to be able to recognize breathing now. I know Hunt's deep breathing. I know Amelia's soft steady breathing. I think I can pick out Alex, and Chief Webber, and Bailey. And I think I hear Meredith a time or two. Arizona's breathing is kind of like her voice, sort of melodious and full of energy and sadness.

And of course, Jackson. I hear his breathing and his heartbeat and my own heartbeat syncs with his of its own volition.

There comes a time though when the shuffle and bustle ebbs away. The crowd is dispersing. My guess is that people either have their own lives to attend to; children to pick up; other patients to see; things they have to get done; or, they realize that this may not be headed for a happy or quick resolution.

Ironic that Amelia's on the spot now to make the call on my recovering myself from this thing. It wasn't so very long ago that she gave me her Power of Attorney in case she ended up gorked from her brain surgery. What is it she said? I wasn't so close to her that I wouldn't pull the plug if necessary.

Well, since the divorce my parents once again had my POA but the DNR in my file would override any choice they might make. I did that since I knew I couldn't count on my mother to let me go so long as a machine could breathe for me. In effect then, Amelia had the burden of making the call. So the shoe is on the other foot, so to speak. I know that must be weighing heavily on her. But I took it as a good sign that my parents hadn't made an appearance yet. Of course, Moline was a long way away so maybe I shouldn't be too encouraged by their absence.

I'm alarmed when I notice that Owen's breathing is no longer detectable in the room. Neither is Amelia's. The only sounds I hear now are the monitor, the respirator, and Jackson.

Okay, now this is a little serious. Sure, it could be a simple coincidence. But if I was out there being Doctor Kepner, and my patient was circling the drain, I would do what any good doctor would..., I would clear the room for family to have a little time with the patient before a hard decision had to be made.

Divorce or no divorce, Jackson is family. If it was time, he would be the one left to say goodbye in private. He would be the one given a few minutes with me. It could well be that those few minutes were now.

I'm sure when I hear the sound of his breathing change and his heartbeat speed up.

“I know you're here.” I hear him say.

Of course I'm here. I want to answer him. I want to tell him YES, I'm still here. But I can't. That wall of darkness still keeps me from him.

“I believe that.”

Oh, Jackson, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I'm sorry to leave you to raise Harriet by yourself.

“I believe in you.”

I've never stopped believing in you either.

“Oh I want to believe.”

Wait. What do you mean? Why do I suddenly have a feeling that he's not talking to me?

“I will. I will. Oh, I will believe in you. Okay?”

And then I realize what he's doing and I'm so amazed I almost feel like..., wait, something is happening to me.

I hear him crying. Oh, God. I can't sit by and see him hurt like this. I can't cause him any more pain.

“I'll do whatever you want.” he sobs.

In the darkness I begin to feel sensations. I feel a little cold. I feel a little warmth. I particularly feel a warmth there, where I hear his voice. I strain to go towards it.

“I'll do anything.”

The way his voice is breaking is breaking my heart. But I think it's a little less dark than before.

“If you exist... just don't... take her away, okay?”

Please God, hear my prayer. You know what it's taking for him to do this. In Scripture is says wherever two or more are gathered in your name, in prayer, you are there. We are here, praying separately but together. Let me return to him. Please!

“Don't...God, don't do it. Don't take April. Please.”

Oh God... But before I can finish another plea, the darkness suddenly gives way. Instead of blackness, there's a kind of lighter darkness that seems somehow familiar. And now suddenly I'm flooded with sensations. I feel aches and pains and cold and warmth. I especially feel warmth in one of my extremities. I especially feel warmth in my right hand.

I recognize that it is covered top and bottom by his hands. That's a problem. I think I'm too weak to move it. But I'm just about to try when I feel him remove the top hand. That makes it just a little easier to muster a squeeze.

He feels it.

“Hey.” His voice holds amazement and wonder. And a fair amount of fear still.

I squeeze again.

“Hey.”

I hear his agitation. I know what he's about. He's trying to figure out how to grab hold of me and keep me from slipping away from him again. I love this man. I may never get a chance to tell him ever again. But in my heart, I know it's true.

With great effort I raise my eyelids halfway. When my eyes focus, it's his tear-stained face I see.

  
  


It takes a little time but slowly some strength returns. They take me off the respirator. Amelia goes through her neuro checklist and I pass with flying colors. The room fills with people again and I find myself answering inane questions about whether I saw dead people.

I tell everyone what I remember about the accident. I don't tell them all about what I heard as I lay there and they fought to bring me back. Some people, like Alex, would just be embarrassed. Others, like Owen, I will tell in private how much I love and appreciate them.

Through it all Jackson holds my hand in a death grip. I think a part of him might still believe I might slip away. I don't mind. I can't help teasing him just a little though.

“You prayed for me...,” I tell him in front of everyone. He smiles sheepishly. I see him wondering how I knew that. Someday I might tell him. But for now, let him think its a miracle, “and it worked. Ha Ha.”

I was teasing of course but the look in his eyes makes me think he might just believe it too. I know I do.

Arizona begins weeping and I have to buck her up. I never actually died, I tell them all. And I can't help but describe the process that preserved me. And I see the smiles and now they know April Kepner really is back with them.

Finally, everyone realizes I'm exhausted, so they squeeze and pat my arm and leave my room until it's just Jackson and Owen. Hunt turns in the doorway on his way out. I see the relief on his face.

“You always come and bring me back.” I tell him.

He smiles and nods and away he goes. He knows how much he means to me.

Jackson hasn't let go of my hand this whole time but now he gets up and I know he'll leave too. I wish he wouldn't but I can't ask him to stay. He leans down and kisses my forehead.

“I'd better go up and get Harriet. Do you want me to bring her down?”

“No,” I say, “ I don't want to scare or upset her. I'll see her tomorrow.”

“Okay.” he says. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”

“No,” I answer, “I just need a little sleep and rest. It's crazy how tiring coming back from the dead is.”

He smiles but behind his eyes I see the anguish lingering. Too soon for joking, I chastise myself.

“I'll be back soon.” he promises and leaves the room, watching me over his shoulder as though afraid I might suddenly keel over without his presence. I almost think I might too.

I'm just about to doze off when I'm woken by Bailey's voice.

“April? There's someone here who has been anxiously waiting to see you.”

I open my eyes and see that Bailey is pushing a beat up looking Matthew in a wheelchair.

“Hey, you.” I smile, though I confess I'm a little conflicted about seeing him. I find myself questioning my feelings for him right at the moment. And this is not the ideal time or place to try and sort it out with him.

“April,” he whispers, “I'm so very sorry. I should have listened to you.”

“Matthew, don't be silly. It was an accident. It's no ones fault.” Yes, you SHOULD have listened to me.

“They tell me you almost died. I don't know what I would have done...”

“But I didn't so let's just lay that to rest.” Okay, in retrospect, that wasn't the best choice of words.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

I should have had an answer for that before he even finished asking but the question triggered a whole flood of things in my poor exhausted brain.

Forgiveness. If there is one theme that describes Matthew and I's relationship, that's the one. But usually it's me who's wronged him and begging for forgiveness. I've hurt him so often. I lied to him about being a virgin. I accepted his proposal and then took it back when I realized I wanted Jackson instead. Then I begged him to take me back only to leave him actually ON the altar while I ran off and married Jackson.

Then his wife, his soulmate, died in my care. Sure it wasn't actually my fault but I'll go to my grave believing that if I had just been a little more alert, a little less distracted, a bit more on my _game,_ I could have caught it and saved Karin.

I have done much that required his forgiveness. Now, finally, he needed mine. And, of course, he had it. But it crystallized for me just how badly I had treated him in the past. And made me wonder again if guilt was more a part of our present than either one of us wanted it to be.

“Matthew, there is nothing to forgive. It was an accident. You survived. I survived.” For some reason I can't quite bring myself to say _We survived_.

“Okay,” he answers. But I think I detect something in his expression. Did he pick up on my doubts somehow?

“Were you able to find someone to take Ruby?” I ask. His mother babysits her during the day but I wasn't sure she was able to be with her all night too.

“Yes, my mom has her. It's no problem for her. I'll pick her up in the morning. Doctor Bailey says they'll release me tomorrow morning provided I have a good night of observation.”

“Great. A word of advice. Do whatever Doctor Bailey tells you.” I advise him.

“That's good advice for both of you, Kepner.” Bailey chimes in.

“What about you? When will they release you?” Matthew asks.

“The day after tomorrow, probably.” Bailey responds before I can. “Provided she does what she's told too.”

I try unsuccessfully to stifle a gigantic yawn.

“Well, I'd better go back and let you get some sleep.” Matthew says. The thought crosses my mind that he would like me to ask him to stay. I also know that Bailey would be happy to move his bed into my room if I asked. Fortunately, she is smart enough not to volunteer that information, giving me the chance to say..., “That's probably a good idea. I'm pretty exhausted. Come see me tomorrow though, before you leave. Okay?”

“Of course.” Yeah, I register a little disappointment on his part. He's in the wheelchair so he can't try to kiss me, so he just squeezes my hand. The thought in my head? That's the same hand Jackson held for hours today. Oh Matthew, I'm pretty sure I'll be asking for your forgiveness again very soon.

Bailey gives me a curious smile as she turns Matthew and wheels him back out of my room. We both know I made a choice just now. The only one who doesn't know is Matthew.

  
  


Sometime in the middle of the night I wake and shift in the bed. I'm not used to sleeping on my back but have to live with it for a night or two. As I try and get comfortable I realize my mouth is really dry. I turn on my bedside light and turn toward the table that holds my water cup. I am shocked when my cup makes its way toward my mouth in the hand of one Jackson Avery.

I take a few small sips to wet my dry throat, never taking my eyes off his.

Once I signal that I've had enough, he returns the cup to the table.

“You snore when you sleep on your back.” he says, smiling.

“So I'm told.” I reply. Jackson has told me this on several occasions.

“It's a cute snore though. Kind of a cross between a smoke alarm and a train whistle.”

“Nice! Thanks for that charming comparison.” I answer dryly.

“My pleasure. But honestly, that little snore is infinitely preferable to the eight hours of silence you gave us yesterday.” The smile fades as he says this.

“Yesterday? What time is it anyway?”

“ A little after 3:30.”

“Ah.” Then it registers. “What are you doing here at 3:30? And where is Harriet?”

“Harriet is with my Mom and Richard.” He chooses to answer only the second question.

But I am nothing if not persistent. “And why are you here handing me water at 3:30 in the morning?”

Jackson shrugs his shoulders. “Just wanted to be here is all.” he finally answers.

“You're crazy then.” I say this but I couldn't be happier to have him here.

“Yes, I am.” he admits. But the way he says it makes me think he's talking about a different crazy than I am and that sends a little thrill through me.

“I saw Bailey as I was leaving with Harriet.”

“Oh?” I'm a little thrown by this change of subject.

“Yeah, she told me she brought Matthew to see you.”

Jackson is looking at me intently now and I'm reeling a little bit. Having Jackson talking about Matthew is a little weird for me.

He goes on. “She said he's being released tomorrow morning.”

“That's the plan.”

“She was a little surprised though.”

Uh-oh, she didn't. “How so?” I ask hesitantly.

“To find me in the chapel with Harriet.” Okay, whew!

Wait! What?

“Of course, she didn't hear anything about the praying thing.”

I'm never at my best at 3:30 AM anyway but right then I was struggling to keep up.

“She looked at me like I was lost or something. A promise is a promise, I told her. That's right isn't it? A promise is a promise. And I'd like to get back to being a man who keeps his promises. Wouldn't that be a good thing?”

I tried to swallow the golf ball sized lump in my throat. “A good thing.” I echoed.

“Especially the promises that involve God, right? I know I'm new at this believer stuff but when you promise to God, or before God, you'd better keep those suckers, right?”

“Right.” I answered faintly. I was pretty sure now that I was dreaming all of this.

“Talked to Maggie right after that.” Jackson was on one of his freewheeling journeys, flitting from one random thought to another. Except I had learned long ago that he only made it seem like random patter. He knows exactly where he wants to go and exactly how he wants to get there.

“Oh?”

“Yep. Thanked her for everything she did for us.”

_Us_?

“She made some interesting observations.”

“Observations?”

“She's pretty perceptive. She pointed out how sometimes the way people react to a crisis can really bring out their true feelings. Turns out you aren't the only one who notices stuff like that. I mean, it wasn't the hospital exploding, but you caused quite a stir yesterday.”

I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

“Then she kind of dumped me. Said she wanted someone who loved her with all his heart. She said she didn't think that would ever be me. How about that?”

I had to check the monitor to make sure my heart was still producing a rhythm.

Jackson changed the subject again. Just when it was getting interesting too. “After I dropped off Harriet I came back to the hospital. Stopped by to check on Matthew.”

That unstuck my voice. “Why?”

Jackson didn't reply right away. “I wanted to tell him how sorry I was that life had dealt him such a tough hand; that his wife had died. But that he should always be grateful for the beautiful part of her she left behind in that child.”

I didn't quite know how to react to this.

“You see, I came so close to that yesterday, almost losing you. It's the second time you've done that to me, you know.”

I knew he was talking about Harriet's birth.

“And I wanted him to know how lucky he is to have a second chance with you and that you came back to him yesterday. Even with everything else, I figure that makes him the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

Lucky? Except he deserves someone who loves him with all her heart too. I'm sure Karin did. I'm equally sure I don't. It's not his fault. My heart belongs to another.

“What did he say to all that?” I manage to ask.

Jackson smiled. “Not a thing. He was sound asleep.”

I rolled my eyes.

“If he had been awake it would have been a beautiful moment though.” he assured me.

“I'm sure.” I agreed.

“You should get some more sleep.”

“Okay.” I answered. “Are you staying?” It was out of my mouth before I could even think about it.

I saw his eyes light off like fireworks. “If you want me to.” he answered.

“I do.” I admitted.

“Okay. I'll be right here then.” he answered.

“Would you hold my hand?”

“Of course.” he whispered in the most gentle voice I've ever heard him use. He slides his chair over next to my bed and takes my hand in his. “Here, I'll turn off the light.” he says.

The room goes dark, at least as dark as a hospital room can get. I close my eyes.

But before I can get back to sleep I hear it again.

“I hear your heart.” I say quietly. “In the OR, when I was in the dark, I heard your heart. It was like a beacon calling me home.” A long moment of silence followed.

“Jackson?”

“Yes.” Suddenly his voice is all throaty.

“I didn't come back to Matthew.” I bite my lip in the dark. I have no idea how Jackson will react to that.

The room is silent for a moment. Then I feel his other hand atop mine.

“This Heart Beats Only for Thee.” he says.

“What's that from?” I ask.

“From me.” he answers. “I just made it up. I call it A Sonnet for April.”

“A sonnet is by definition always sixteen lines.” I point out. It's my nature to be a stickler for details. It's also my nature to do it at the worst possible times. Like now.

“This is a modern sonnet. Old rules don't apply.”

“You can't just change things like that.” I argue.

“But you can change **you** to **u** and **are** to **r** when you text?”

“Totally different.”

“So I'll say _This Heart Beats Only for Thee_ sixteen times then if it will make you happy.”

I don't say so but having him say it even once makes me happy.

After a minute or so I say, “Jackson?”

“Yep?”

“Thank you for the sonnet. No one's ever written one for me before.”

After another minute I hear...

“April?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to real sonnet fans.  
> Sorry Matthew, I'm afraid it's never going to turn out well for a Mapril endgame in my fics.  
> Looking forward to Indivisible though.  
> Thanks to all for reading. I know we're dwindling but I appreciate the Japril diehards who are still coming around.  
> Special thanks for any comments left.

**Author's Note:**

> Not a terribly original idea- remember Derek Shepard talking us through his death?  
> But there were some good things about 14x23 and some not so good things  
> I've tried to keep the good things and in Chapter 2 I'll try to replace the bad.  
> Then I'll call it the Series Finale and we can pretend that ridiculous 14x24 never happened and that Grey's Anatomy would have the good sense to shut down after bidding farewell to both Sarah and Jessica. Better yet, Jolex can have the perfect wedding to wrap things up and, spoiler alert, Japril lives happily ever after.  
> Sigh.  
> As always, comments are most welcome.


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